Froggy in the Middle
by whisper-wish
Summary: When James Potter is cursed to the form of a frog, who will take care of him? And will his grudging chaperone, Lily Evans, let him sleep on her pillow? And how the hell do you undo this curse, anyhow? LExJP Rated to be safe.
1. the challenge

the challenge: lily's p.o.v

Lily Evans had never been pampered to the extreme, nor did she consider herself a princess in any right. Her parents, sensible, law-abiding Muggles as they were, had provided for her in all the necessary means. However, when magic and wizardry came into the picture, Mr and Mrs Evans wisely sidestepped buying their daughter a gold-plated cauldron. James Potter, on the other hand, was a prince in his own right. With his good looks and flair for Quidditch, the son of the Potters recieved at least _twenty _gold-plated cauldrons a month, whenever he so much as boiled a potion in his current cauldron.

That was what had Lily Evans fuming. The redhead stormed down the corridor, black robes rippling about her form. Truth be told, her striking green eyes and porcelain features were extremely attractive to most of the boys, and if she had thought to remove her oversized robes, her figure would've enticed plenty a boy, too. But with such brooding thoughts hanging above her, her expression scared the general population of Hogwarts away. Lily sighed, and swivelled on her heel in the corridor.

Hogwarts was indeed beautiful. Even in the shade of the elegantly curving corridor, she could still make out the lush grounds, the crystalline lake's surface rippling gently. It was truly picturesque. There was only one thing that marred Hogwarts entire appearance, and that thing was none other than a _beast, _something Lily hated to mention unless it was truly necessary ...

"Hey, James!" came a voice, untamed and wild with pleasure, "Catch!"

A golden ball came hurting towards Lily, and even at such great a distance, she recognized the metallic sheen of a stolen Quidditch Snitch. Her lips curled back in undisguised contempt as she spotted Sirius Black, unruly hair wild in the wind to match his boyish expression. The next moment, a shadow fell over her as James Potter whooshed over her, regal features flushed with exhileration as he looped the loop over her, plucking the Snitch from the air. Lily, her books raised over her head to prevent any further harm, glowered up at him.

"Ah, Evans," James said, his head tilted back to soak up the sun, "didn't see you there."

"Didn't see me!?" Lily repeated, every syllable shaking with indignation, "Didn't _see _me!?"

"Well, you are a pretty small girl." James teased, white teeth flashing brilliantly, "Not saying you're ugly or anything; you're pretty attractive..."

" THE HELL, JAMES POTTER, YOU FLEW RIGHT ONTOP OF SOMEONE WITHOUT _NOTICING _THEM!? YOU COULD'VE CRASHED AND HURT SOMEBODY!"

"If you want to go to the hospital wing, there's no need," James said.

Twisting his form quickly over the worn broomstick, he landed, one hand in the middle of his splayed feet to catch his balance. He whistled, and the broomstick smacked into his flesh. A gaggle of girls had already arrived; Lily seethed. This was what she hated most about James Potter – the way he flaunted in front of attention. Sure enough, the Potter tilted his head sideways casually so that his dark, flashing eyes were angled towards his fangirls; they swooned. Still juggling the Snitch, James made his way towards Lily, who stood still.

"There's no need to go to the hospital wing if all you want is a bed." he said, leaning towards her.

"You _pervert,_" Lily said, with as much contempt as she could put into those two syllables, "leave me alone. Go find someone else to go hormonally mad on."

Sirius winked knowledgeably at James, and Lily turned her attention to him. He was as rugged as ever, with girls salivating all over him. Sadly, Sirius was no less oblivious to this fact than James was about _his _fangirls. He threw a wink at Lily too, who glowered, and glanced over at Remus and Peter Pettigrew. Both remained silent, but while Peter seemed unable to say anything due to the fact that he was wetting his pants in excitement, Remus' lips were pressed into a thin line, and his grip on the book was far too tight.

"Hey Lily," Sirius said, who had caught her gaze, "want to go head-on-head with me and James?"

"No thanks." Lily said coolly; she hated the fact they had an audience, "Besides, going against good Quidditch players is unfair."

"Look at that," Peter finally squeaked, knocking James' elbow nervously, "she called you 'good'."

"James already knows that he's good," Remus said, his voice worn thin, "That's part of the reason why it's so fun to tease you, apparently."

"And what if I don't want to be teased?" Lily said.

At this, the crowd started jeering once more. Over the clamor of voices, Lily could make out the same words over and over; 'She's just afraid to go head-to-head with the wonderful James Potter'. And the crowd really knew how to get Lily riled; she all but screamed bloody murder. In this case, she stood further upright, and met James' eyes. He seemed startled to have her clear green eyes, framed by luxuriant lashes, look into his.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." he said after a moment's pause, and no emotion could be detected in his tone, "Three-forty, the Quidditch pitch. Bring a second ..."

"... I won't be late." Lily finished.


	2. head to head

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Poter, sadly.**

head-to-head: lily's p.o.v

And so, what was she doing here again?

Lily could hardly believe she'd agreed to the stupid thing in the first place. A match with James Potter ... _Yeah right, _the girl berated herself mentally, _more like a _date _with James Potter. _It wasn't exactly like she had planned the whole thing out either; she had merely wished to disassociate herself with the fool. But still, somehow, things had escalated and the whole blown-out-of-proportion thing had turned into a head-to-head Quidditch match. Of course, the majority of the girls were on James and Sirius' side. Those lovestruck idiots had even gone so far to construct a projected image of Sirius, and although it was still crazy, some part of Lily was glad it wasn't James' face up there.

"I can't wait for this." said Severus from far off; the boy, greasy hair pulled back into an awkward ponytail, had hurried out from the changing rooms moments ago. Even at this bad time, Lily was pleased to see him. She tugged the Slytherin into a warm hug, glad to know that there was someone there for her, no matter how angular he seemed. When she released him, Snape's slightly beaky nose seemed to have gone a few shades pinker than usual.

"I can't wait for this." he repeated, "Showing that ba ... that Potter can be defeated."

"It's not exactly a 'defeat', Sev," Lily said, hoisting her own robes up to mount her neatly clipped broomstick, "it's more like a 'date' in James Potter's opinion."

The two of them cast their gazes up towards the stands, where James hovered, 'subconciously' flexing his abs and muscles. Lily looked away within seconds, disgusted by the sight; Severus too seemed pretty put-off, but his expression brightened in comparison to Lily's nauseous glare. The Slytherin struggled to mount his bucking broomstick.

"You've got to put a little more force into it, Sev," Lily said, laughing. She took Severus' hand, and gently guided it to his broomstick's handle. Silently, Severus followed her instructions; his leg whipped up and around the broomstick.

"Nice job," Lily grinned, and held up her hand for a high-five.

"Now let's go get Potter and Black." Severus said grimly, face set into a thunderstorm, "I can't wait to wipe the smirks off their arrogant faces."

"I'm with you ther-"

"_Lily!"_

Lily and Severus turned in unison; hurrying onto the grassy Quidditch pitch was one of Lily's fellow Gryffindors, a girl by the name of Emma, her curly brown hair loose and in dissaray. Severus silently slunk out of view – it was Emma who despised Severus and Lily's good relationship. Nonetheless, Lily greeted the girl warmly. Emma's eyes were wild, and although she was out of breath, that didn't stop her from spitting the words out.

"Lily-think! What... think ...what're you doing!? Going head to head against Jam... Potter ... another Gryffindor, with ... _him?_" the girl gesticulated forefully at Snape, and fell silent, panting.

"He's my friend, Ems," Lily explained patiently, "what does it matter?"

"But James wants to be wi-! But Snape's a-!"

"I said already," Lily said, a little more forcefully than she had anticipated, "he's my _friend._ It doesn't matter what he is."

A whistle shattered the silence, and the crowd went wild. Lily's head of red hair snapped up, her gaze pinpointed on the lone figure at the announcer's stand. Remus loooked just as battered as the tiny wooden box, but nonetheless, he held the mike to his mouth, a grim expression pulling the corners of his mouth down. There came a roar of excitement and applause, and two figures circled the pitch. Sparks of color and popcorn came raining down; it was just like a real match, albeit with four players. Lily didn't have to look up to know who was soaking up the attention.

"Don't think about what idiots they are, Lily," Severus said comfortingly, "they just ... are."

"Right," Remus said, forced good humor in his voice, "the rules are simple; the first team to get the Snitch and throw it as far as they can wins."

"Wins what, exactly?" Lily said scathingly, and despite the fact that the roar of the crowd was far louder than her, her voice had been magically amplified. The girl cringed; Severus patted her upper arm comfortingly.

"Wins what?" James roared, and his booming dulcet tones threw the crowd into a frenzy once more. He whizzed past the spectators, scarlet-colored robes fluttering out behind him, and despite the fact that his brow was drenched with sweat, the fans did their best to touch him, like he was some sort of holy relic.

"Wins _what? _What is there to win? This is a game of wits, of strength!"

His words did have the slightest hypnotic pull to them. _Riight, _Lily thought sarcastically, hoping that magic couldn't read your mind, _like tossing a Snitch away is that hard. It's just a battle of muscle and brawn. _

The whistle screeched once more, and they were off.

OoOoOo

Never before had Lily Evans had to bite back her words. And she didn't like it, either.

James had obviously done his best to make the game hard, the girl thought furiously as she whizzed, cannonball-style, through the air. The rain pelted her soft skin, making the rehead all the more determined to crack James Potter. And the Snitch was nothing more than a blur of gold, bouncing back everytime it seemed to draw close to the edge of the Quidditch Pitch. Madam Hooch had enchanted all the Snitches to stay within school grounds; Lily bitterly cursed the fact that she had forgotten this.

Snape was no pro on a broom, either. He was flat-footed, and his broomstick barely lifted him a meter of the ground. That wasn't good, seeing as most of the game was at least a good twenty meters up. So while Severus waddled around below, cursing and hexing his broomstick with a handful of red sparks, Lily was stuck up in the sky, in a daredevil game she wished she'd never entered.

Below, Remus was still keeping up a steady stream of commentary, despite his obvious annoyance. His blunt tones, however, didn't match the crowds enthusiasm; moments into the game, the wild screams of the crowd were all that could be heard. Lily didn't like that arrangement. She preferred Remus' sensible commentary anyday.

"C'mon, Lily," James taunted as he whooshed past her, his robes stinging her face, "you can do better than that, right?"

"C'mon yourself," Lily retorted angrily, "what's this game for, anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" James replied, executing a sharp forty-five degree angle with exact precision, "It's a game of-"

"It's a game of men!" Sirius roared from overhead. The teenager was practically smothered in smog and cloud, and his black hair clung to his scalp, sticky and wet. Lily eyed him and James distastefully; they both had a habit of making her want to hex them.

"So where does that put me exactly?" Lily called back.

"Oh, as the amusement," Sirius said casually, "Here, James!"

A blur of gold flung itself towards Lily, and just like yesterday, James somersaulted over her. For a moment, he was a bundle of lithe muscles, angular and graceful. For just one moment, Lily blinked up at him haphazardly. And then James had landed behind her on her own broomstick, tipping the weight sharply, the golden Snitch clutched in one hand. He seized her shoulders, dragging her backwards, and flung his arm back. With the most strength he could muster, James threw the Snitch forward.

It whizzed away, silent, it's wings curled around it protectively. The golden ball flew further away, further ... further ... Lily strained her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the shimmering Snitch. It was gone, obscured by the lush landscape. But the raucous screams of the crowd and the triumphant faces of James and Sirius as they smirked at one another didn't matter; what mattered, Lily thought wildly, was that when you put a heavy object next to a light object, the light object would be flung away.

"POTTER, YOU IDIOT!" Lily howled above the rain, now pouring in earnest, and the wild screams of the crowd, the stress of the day alleviated, "I'm gonna-"

James bounced on the end of the broomstick once, and then curled into another ball, somersaulting across the sky and onto his waiting broomstick. But for Lily, that wasn't nearly the end of it yet; the broomstick snapped backwards. A single, fleeting thought dashed through her mind, so quick that the redhead barely had time to comprehend what she felt. And then she was falling, falling effortlessly, head thrown back, damp red locks fluttering upwards.

Not a single spell came to mind.


	3. cursed

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Poter, sadly.**

cursed : james' p.o.v

The redhead laid spread-eagled, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Despite the crowds voices, intermingling as one triumphant roar, it suddenly seemed so silent. James was barely aware of what he was doing as he guided his broomstick into a sharp nosedive, Sirius loyally following right behind him. The teenager leapt off moments from the ground and sprung into a neat crouch, before dashing towards Lily's inert form.

Snape was already there, greasy black head bent over the fair girl's pale face.

"Lily ... Lily..."

"Get away from her!" James ordered roughly, pushing Snape aside, "Sirius, what's wrong with her?"

"She fell and hit her head," came a quiet voice beside the group; Remus had arrived, his microphone tucked under one arm, and if his face was a book, it would've read 'I TOLD YOU SO', "When you leapt off her broomstick, James."

"No, that didn't happen," James said wildly, peering into Lily's pale face. "It didn't."

No-one said anything, but the malicious glares Snape shot at James told the true story. Lily's face was paler than ever, her light freckles standing out against her clear skin. Her usually sparkling eyes were closed, and the raindrops clinging to her lashes just could have been tears. James paused, and then knelt beside the girl, pulling her into a sitting position. It still wasn't any good. Lily's head lolled back lifelessly.

"We should get her to Madam Pomfrey," Peter said, who had scurried over in the silence, "C'mon, James, let's get her to-"

"And might I enquire to the disruption, lads?" came a warm voice.

It was the Professor James had hoped _not _to see. Slughorn stood there, his coin of golden hair neatly coiffed, and his double chins as protuberant as ever. The professor looked something of a fool, in his neatly buttoned up suit, despite the fact that his belly bulged out as huge as ever. Slughorn glanced James up and down, and then spied the motionless girl in the Gryffindor's arms. His face slowly went from peach, to purple, to red, and then it slowly drained of all color, leaving Slughorn a pasty white.

"What happened?" the professor spluttered.

"She fell." Snape answered; all heads turned to watch the Slytherin stagger to his feet, apparently in need of new underpants due to 'broomstick burn'. "Potter pushed her ... and she fell."

"Hey, that's not-" Remus began, while Sirius said "The liar!", and Pettigrew stammered furiously. James grinned awkwardly at their protests, and turned back to Slughorn. The professor seemed no less disturbed than before; he gaped at Lily, the girl lying there uselessly. Even the cheers of the crowd had died down.

"Detention, James." Slughorn said, and James' heart sank; he had been expecting that, "Detention every Saturday morning, eight to eleven! I'm astounded by this behaviour..."

James was silent, the rain trickling down his face. He'd miss Quidditch practise. There was no doubt his captain would be angry. There was no doubt the entire Gryffindor house would be furious. He could almost imagine their roars of protest, their threats of blackmail, their furious student vendetta against Slughorn. But the professor's judgement was final, and glancing down at Lily's freckled face, finally smoothed of all irritation, James agreed. That would be his punishment, and he would take it like a man.

"Yes, sir."

"But-" Peter spluttered, and then caught James' expression and fell silent.

Remus lifted the microphone to his lips and spoke briefly. In response, there was silence. And then the crowd disperesed themselves, filtering off through the exits and the stairs, hoods pulled over their faces in the hopes of avoiding a detention. Only Emma and Severus stayed behind, hovering close to Lily's motionless form.

"James, collect the Snitch," Slughorn finally said, "Severus, Emma and I shall take Lily to the hospital wing."

"But Professor-"

"No buts!" Slughorn said firmly.

James nodded once more. He felt Lily's form in his arms; light, so breakable. Silently, the Seeker handed his burden over.

OoOoOoO

And so, James stumped through the muddy Forest. He wasn't lost, he assured himself. He was merely walking around the same tree thirty times because he felt like it. The teenager sighed, throwing himself down on a nearby log. Right then and there, he would've given his whole left arm - and maybe Peter too - to have his broomstick and a Time-Turner back. Maybe then he could've undone the hours and made sure Lily had never fallen from the sky. Now that he thought about it, her neck had been at a weird angle ... an icy thrill ran through James; she couldn't be dead. Lily wouldn't have died just like that. He would never have allowed her life to be exstinguished just like that.

"A battle of men," he muttered bitterly to himself, "Why did Sirius have to interrupt and force me to play my hand when I was having fun?"

James lashed out savagely at a nearby creeper, and then yelped as the creeper dug into his flesh. The teenaged Gryffindor toppled over, and landed facefirst in a pond. Soaking wet, the boy pulled himself out, dark locks clinging to his forehead. James wiped the muck out of his eyes, and then stopped. Glinting dully in the base of the pond was the golden Snitch. It's lustre had been lost. Slughorn - and Madam Hooch - would be mad. James reached for it, and as his fingers closed around the light metal ball, an exposion of light burst forth.

For a moment, the world was topsy turvy. A horrible nauseous feeling overcame James. His head burnt and his limbs stung, and for a moment, everything grew large. Even the tiny pebble he had been kicking turned into a monstrous cliff, looming twenty feet above him. And then the world was overtaken by smothering darkness, overlapping layer of cloth upon cloth. Choking and gasping, James scrabbled away furiously. A pile of black, mountainous robes had been the things practically suffocating him. And the golden Snitch .. the golden Snitch was ...

A phrase lurked in James memory, a distinctly froggy phrase; _' ... if I help you get your golden ball, will you take care of me?'_

James spun in circles, his cool blown. His body wasn't his; he was trapped in the most revolting amphibian's form. His skin was clammy - no wait, it wasn't even his skin, it was a layer of gelatinous jelly. His stomach churned, but it was empty. His eyeballs rolled, and, completely revulsed now, James remembered that frogs could crush their prey with their eyeballs. It was horrifying. It was beyond reality. If anyone chanced to walk this way, they would've been startled to see a frog sitting so still it barely breathed beside a pile of James Potter's robes, and a golden Snitch on one side.

He didn't even dare speak for fear that his voice would be a tiny croak. The teenaged boy squeezed his eyes shut, disturbed the monstrous orbs that were his eyes, praying ... praying ... that when he opened them again it would all be a wild dream. But nothing happened. Silently, James hopped forward. It felt weird; a combination of muscles and brains recreating a slight spring forward. But he barely moved; it would take at least twenty hops to move one footstep. It had better be worth, the frog-boy thought thunderously, whatever was waiting to help him, whatever _would _help him had better be worth the effort.

No more thoughts were spared on Lily.


End file.
